


flame more than light flared from [her] eyes

by sonicenvy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Cannibalism, Gore, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other, POV Darth Vader, anakin u just have to live with your shitty choices, apology in advance to both shmi and leia for this, eldritch horror, if nothing else, it was cathartic to write leia murdering the evil dudes, literally dont know why i wrote this, literally so much gore in this, yeah there's a lot this is dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28598805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicenvy/pseuds/sonicenvy
Summary: I was originally going to stick part of my eldritch horror/shapeshifter skywalkers verse into my "i dwell in possibility" bits and bobs collection, but when i sat down to write some of it down it turned into what we have here, which after I re-read it is definitely not a T rating. The rape/attempted rape scenes aren't explicit, but they are ... pretty obvious. Dead dove, do not eat i guess? this is not really my cup of tea tbh, but here we are  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯***Two of Tarkin’s men had completely vanished. The walls of the princess's cell were splattered with blood, and the metal had large gouge marks, as though they had been clawed by some large beast. Frankly, Vader cared little for finding out about the rebel base, especially now that he had been presented with a far more interesting mystery.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	flame more than light flared from [her] eyes

**Author's Note:**

> i don't own star wars, im just here to break george's toys in his sandbox today i guess.
> 
> sorry for writing this 😬

Vader was certain that if he had set any of his men (or Tarkin’s for that matter) to the task of looking for traces of the wiped security footage from the princess’s cell, they would not have been able find anything at all. They might have always been enemies, but he had always respected her. She was sharp tongued and clever, rare in the Imperial senate. Vader tried not to think about how much Leia Organa resembled Padmé, but in this moment, watching the looped footage of her wan and starved figure pacing her cell the thought was returning with a vengeance. The force whispered around him, but when he pulled at the thread, it slipped from his grasp and danced away laughing.

Leia Organa was clearly a far more accomplished slicer than he’d given her credit for; it took him three long arduous hours to find and recover any traces of the missing hour of security footage. His com beeped, likely Tarkin calling him to task, but Vader ignored it. He needed to know what had happened in that cell. Two of Tarkin’s men had completely vanished. The walls of the cell were splattered with blood, and the metal had large gouge marks, as though they had been clawed by some large beast. Frankly, Vader cared little for finding out about the rebel base, especially now that he had been presented with a far more interesting mystery.

He hadn’t reported to Tarkin yet about what he had found in the cell. The force was screaming at him to pay attention. _Pay attention to what?_ Again, the force refused to respond and danced away from him, laughing, glittering with some secret he couldn’t divine.

Finally, his last program finished running and his terminal chirped at him, informing him in its tinny voice that he had retrieved one holovid. He clicked to play it.

Leia was pacing the cell, clearly emaciated from the two weeks of starvation and dehydration that she had endured as their captive — this had been Tarkin’s idea to warm her up for interrogation. Vader didn’t see the need — with the force he could easily tear apart her mind for the information his master and Tarkin wanted. However, Vader’s master had made him subservient to Tarkin for the time being, so Vader did not protest. Leia’s lips were blistered, but all in all she remained remarkably sane and with a decent amount of physical stamina. From what he could see of her eyes though, they were dull and empty; most of the spark that he had respected about her was missing. Disappointing, but expected.

Two of Tarkin’s men entered the cell, laughing.

“How are you doing today Your Highness?” The taller of the two asked, sneering.

Leia did not respond. She did not even look up to acknowledge that the men had entered her cell.

The shorter of the men walked up to Leia and grabbed her face. “Lance asked you a question Princess.”

She remained mute and still, her dulled brown eyes staring out into space behind the two men.

“She might need some extra convincing to make her a little more fun Chali,” Lance said.

Chali released Leia’s face and her head dropped.

“What are you suggesting Lance?” Chali asked.

Lance advanced on Leia, grabbing her shoulder, “The little princess might be more fun if she gets her hair down and her boring dress off.”

The cruel hunger in the men’s voices made Vader’s stomach churn, and he was uncomfortably reminded of memories he’d spent his lifetime suppressing.

Vader was only six years old, sitting on the floor with his mother in their hovel in the slave quarters. His mother was telling him a story, but he couldn’t remember it now, the words lost to time. The door to their hovel was pushed open and two men, two of their master’s overseers had entered, the remotes to slave chips in their hand, laughing, their breath heavy with alcohol.

They grabbed his mother forcing her to stand. Vader had wanted to scream, but his mother’s pleading gaze kept him silent and still. These men had the same cruel hunger in their voices as they tore off his mother’s dress and unbuckled their trousers. And they — they — His mother’s eyes had dulled, the same resigned brown as Leia’s were in the holovid before him. Vader had looked away, squeezing his eyes shut, pleading with the goddess for the torture to end, for the men to leave him and his mother alone. When he finally reopened his eyes, the men were gone and his mother was bare and broken on the floor, bleeding. The look on her face was something he had known even then that he would never forget for as long as he lived.

The memory flashed across his mind for only a moment, but Vader felt as though the whole of it was living in the image of Leia Organa’s dull eyes on the vid screen in front of him. In the holovid, Chali tore the princess’s dress off. Lance wrenched her long hair out of its buns. Still she did nothing, gaze empty. The two of them backed her now practically nude form into the back corner of the cell. She looked so defeated. Padmé’s face on Mustafar had looked the same. It was as though someone had created a combination of his mother’s empty gaze after her rape, and Padmé’s as she’d laid dying and pasted it onto the princess’s face.

Lance unbuckled his trousers and pulled them down, laughing as he returned to in front of Leia, towering over her tiny form. Vader almost looked away, certain he couldn’t watch what came next. But something forced him to keep watching. There was a sudden distortion in the holovid for a single second, and where the princess had been standing, defeated in the corner of the cell, there was a huge Krayt dragon, head almost touching the ceiling. Lance was crushed under of the of Krayt dragon’s feet; he struggled, but only managed to have his arm partially severed by one of the claws.

Chali, having been farther away scrambled back, abandoning Lance to his fate. Both men were clearly attempting to scream, but something was preventing them from making any noise; their mouths moved but no sound escaped. When Chali attempted to use his badge to escape the cell, it slipped from his hands and slid away, towards the Krayt dragon, as though it were being pulled by the force.

The Krayt dragon cocked its head for a moment studying Lance’s struggling form.

“You’re both quite rude,” The Krayt dragon said in Leia Organa’s voice.

She was… She was… Vader could scarcely believe what he was seeing. He had only ever known two people other than himself that could shift into different forms. His mother … and Padmé, who had developed the ability after becoming pregnant. Leia Organa had always looked like Padmé, and sometimes the eerie resemblance had struck him with dull grief and fiery fury all at once.

“I would let you live, as I’m not overly fond of killing people,” Leia, the Krayt dragon continued, “But that complicates things a bit too much for me. More than that, I think you are both vile examples of humanity. And … I’m quite hungry you see.” She called them human with a detached voice.

This time when she bared her teeth it looked like a cruel smile. She lifted her foot up, picking up Lance’s bleeding body. His almost severed arm detached completely, dropping to the ground, sending a spray of blood across the floor. She studied his struggling body for a moment, and then tore it apart, devouring it. Chali, quickly met the same fate, as did Lance’s severed arm. The distortion returned for a moment and Leia Organa’s frail human form was standing in the middle of the carnage, covered in blood. She walked across the cell to where her white dress, now torn and blood splattered had been tossed, and dressed herself, tying knots in the fabric to make it come together again. She gritted her teeth as she reached around to tie the final knot in the fabric and he could see that her mouth was filled with blood. Now dressed, she picked up the Chali’s access card from the ground wiping it clean with her dress. As she was standing up, she noticed that there was still one finger laying on the ground from one of the men. She picked it up and stuck it in her mouth, eating it, the sickening crunch of bone loud in the silence of the cell.

Her eyes were still dulled from hunger, but devouring Lance and Chali had clearly helped bring some of the spark back to them. She wiped the blood on her hands off on some of the remaining clean parts of her dress, and tapped Chali’s card, opening the door to her cell. There was another distortion in the holovid and standing where Leia had been in the now open doorway was an orange lothcat covered in blood. Where Leia had gone after she’d left the cell was unrecoverable.

The implications of what he had just watched hit him. Leia Organa was … she was …

_Yes, Yes, Yes_ , the force whispered in his ears.

Louder than the force was the bright pride of the desert, at the presence of its child, Lye-ah the Krayt dragon, the desert storm, strong and fierce and free.

He had always thought that their child was going to be a girl, and it seemed that he had been right about that in the end.

Leia Organa had always felt like nothing in the force, but after seeing what he’d just seen, the dawning thought that someone, someone not a Jedi had trained her to use the force filled him. It seemed that someone from the same treacherous order that had made Padmé lie and hide from him, that had taught her to make herself nothing in the force hiding her great power, had taught Leia.

And the Organas had stolen her. She was his child, who he had been denied. She was meant to be Lye-ah the Skywalker. Fury rose in Vader, the dark side chattering all around him. Questions ran around his head in circles. _Did his master know? Had the treacherous Jedi or Padmé’s treacherous order been the ones that had helped Organa steal his child?_

One thing was clear: Vader had a new purpose. He had a reason to finally do what the Sith doctrine suggested, a reason to slay his master instead of waiting for the sweet release of death. He hadn’t been able to save his mother, and he hadn’t been able to save Padmé, but he would save Leia from his master. He wiped the file and all traces of his prior activity from his terminal, and sent for a cleaning droid to wipe away all evidence of the carnage from the cell.

His com beeped again, more insistent this time. He answered the summons, returning to the bridge to await Tarkin’s next order.


End file.
